Walking via the purple landscape,
I see my toddler so innocent.
Carrying in her celestial walk
the natural strains of her bland soul.
Tired of jogging she is going and perches,
On the barbed twine this is hurtful.
Blood runs stealthily,
Surrounding among purple lakes.
It cries out in depression amidst weeping,
withinside the purple and delightful garden,
looking ahead to the savior of dreams.
her battered frame with out warning,
cries out amidst resounding screams
calling withinside the wind to the colossus
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